The Enemy Of My Enemy
by Drea Jackman
Summary: When Max & White are pinned down by a vigilante group, they must work together against their common enemy to survive. [After FN - World aware of Familiar presence][NEW CH6!]
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Author: Drea Jackman  
  
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net  
  
URL:   
  
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).  
  
The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
"Give it up, Ames. This is getting boring."  
  
Ames White launched himself at Max and struck out with another volley of kicks and punches. Max took a kick to the gut before blocking the rest to strike out with her own counter-kick to his chest. A kick which sent him hurtling backward as he staggered to a stop.  
  
"I'm just getting started, 452," he replied with a grin and wiped the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth on the back of his hand.  
  
"Why don't we just cut to the chase?"  
  
"Which is?" he drawled as he attacked her again.  
  
"That you don't like me," she answered, bending low to dodge an incoming fist before punctuating each word with her own. "And I despise you."  
  
"An understatement on your part."  
  
Before Max could reply, loud gunfire split the cold night air around them. Both opponents stopped dead only a few feet from one another and turned to look in the direction of the blasts. They could hear the roar of the engines approaching fast. So fast, that now they could even make out the coarse yells booming through the air. Within seconds two heavily loaded trucks were screeching around the corner yards away, full beam headlights catching their target.  
  
Max recognised them as members of the newly organised 'anti-mutant' group based in Seattle. In the months that had followed the incident at Jampony and confined many transgenics to Terminal City, the world of the Familiars had also been exposed. It was the least Eyes Only could do for those who'd been so kind in exposing his friends. The Familiars were in complete disarray with those who hadn't managed to drop off the radar completely managing to conceal themselves within the powerful ranks of government where their money and position could provide them safety.  
  
Having White find her so far from the sanctuary of Terminal City wasn't part of her original plan, but he had done so nonetheless. It was an old factory complex a few square miles in size and miles outside of town. She had been checking up on the outpost for new transgenics looking to be smuggled into the city, but tonight there had been none. White had pounced on her the second she had stepped back outside. The only thing more surprising than his presence was that of the Hunters.  
  
Both White and Max cast a glance between them knowing that theirs was a battle that could wait for another time. Every person for themselves. Max sprang past him in an effort to get to her Ninja before they could. Suddenly her beloved motorcycle became a target as more gunfire sounded and sparks began to fly from her precious baby.  
  
White on the other hand, held his ground a little longer and drew his gun to return fire. Max noticed that his car was nowhere in sight, no doubt hidden to conceal his approach as he closed in on her earlier. Only when the trucks had stopped and their Hunter-army had begun to spread out, did he make any effort to retreat.  
  
Max cursed under her breath and turned to blur in the other direction. The darkened buildings of the widespread complex would have to offer shelter enough until she could pick them off one by one and make her escape. Before she could cross the foreground to the large empty building nearby, a few of the Hunters blocked her path. They didn't manage to fire a shot before her Manticore-given strength and speed had disarmed them and sent them crashing to the ground.  
  
Now in the doorway of her new sanctuary, she paused to take stock of her situation. If it was anywhere else, she'd simply stay and fight - if it were anyone else. But, the key here was escape and evade. The plan was to find a way out and get back to the city. There were too many to fight off alone - which was exactly what made her stop to watch White as he now fought a gang of them hand to hand.  
  
"Despise you," she uttered to remind herself exactly who it was that was now fighting for his life amid almost all of the Hunter attack group.  
  
With his gun now empty and no time to reload, White tossed it aside and found himself completely surrounded. No matter for fighting off a few simple humans was no difficult task. He sent one after the other to the ground hard with a series of precisely executed attacks that Max knew she'd been on the receiving end of way too often. Max frowned as she saw him falter once. Not a great mistake to make in battle, but something she'd never seen a Familiar do. Genetically superior strength could only go so far in the face of such an onslaught, but it was a battle he had been winning until their leader had grown tired of him and aimed his gun at the now equally-hated Familiar.  
  
Max stood up and turned to leave when a barrage of gunfire and cheers stopped in her tracks. She turned to see White reluctantly stagger to one knee before falling to both. The onslaught didn't stop there and before she knew what she was doing, she had turned to run along the inside wall of the building parallel to the gang outside. When she reached the end and peered around the empty doorway, she could now see White through the men crowded around him. There was blood. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was staining him in several places.  
  
"Damn it, you sonuvah bitch!" she cursed aloud and darted out from her place of safety once more.  
  
Blurring up behind the two trucks, Max leapt up onto the back and quickly incapacitated their leader and tossed him out onto the man nearby. Grabbing the side of the truck, she swung round and kicked him as he stood up, sending him to the cold concrete below. Quickly, she slipped inside the now empty vehicle and revved up the engine.  
  
As the rough growl of the engine roared, many Hunters turned in surprise. Without wasting a second, Max hit the accelerator and ploughed through as many as she could. As they scattered and leapt aside, the beam of the headlights found White just before he too tossed his body from the wake of the speeding truck.  
  
Clearing the crowd, Max turned to make a second pass and suddenly the windshield shattered under a hail of gunfire. With no idea what lay before her, she opened the driver's door and jumped out. Hitting the ground and tumbling hard, she looked up quickly to see her truck collide with the other. The explosion sent a heat wave burning across her face, but undeterred she used the distraction to run for cover, taking out a few more men on her way.  
  
After covering about a mile inside the complex, Max slowed her pace down. The echo of the Hunters was now distant, but she knew if she wasted time, they'd catch up with her again. It was after slowing down to a steady pace that she noticed something marking the ground a few feet away. In the dull moonlight it appeared dark and thick. Looking more closely she recognised it as blood. Frowning she realised that White had taken the same course of action she had and fled during the distraction she'd set up for them.  
  
Following it, she noticed that every few drops were coming closer together. Familiar or not, the beating he'd taken had begun to slow him down. A mistake that would certainly prove fatal if he was indeed following her course of action. telling herself that, that was the only reason for even considering what she was doing, Max followed the trail, quickly covering it up as she went.  
  
Half an hour later and another mile inside the complex, Max had lost the trail. The blood had stopped and given the size of the abandoned lot, both White and the Hunters could be anywhere. The dull echo of voices was still distant on the air as she traversed the silent buildings. The heavy silence loomed until a hollow clatter rattled from the hanger to her left. Being careful to avoid any Hunter seeing her enter or approach, Max stole her way inside and through the maze of passageways until she reached the back of the loading bay.  
  
Max listened intently, her feline senses kicking into overdrive as she tried to pick up another sign of her pursuers. Taking them out was her first priority to ensure a safe passage off the complex. There was something - breathing. Not particularly loud, but more laboured than she'd come to expect of those hunting her kind down. It was coming from a small storage room to the right.  
  
Creeping toward the dark doorway she peered inside, her eyes picking out row after row of shelves in the semi-darkness, but nothing else. She entered quickly and quietly, slipping between the rows until she reached the back wall. There was another brief sound. A soft thud from the corner. Max advanced on it quickly. What she found surprised even her.  
  
"I thought it was only lowly animals that crawled off to die alone," she said casually.  
  
"452," White began slowly before stopping for breath.  
  
Max stepped in closer to the fallen Familiar. White sat slumped in the corner, brow damp with both blood and sweat. His legs lay stretched out before him, deep stains of blood on the right thigh. Arms lay limp by his sides, one in his lap as blood also coated the material of his navy suit jacket, an evident hole in the left shoulder.  
  
"Y'know I just wish I could feel sorry for you," Max sighed and looked down at him as if attempting to manage an expression of pity.  
  
"Get the hell away from me!" he growled and attempted to push himself farther back into his corner to get away from her.  
  
"Hey," Max said holding her hands up honestly. "Only too happy."  
  
She turned to round the next row of stacks when a loud clatter echoed back to them. The Hunters were getting closer.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
"What?!" she hissed looking back.  
  
White only narrowed his eyes to glare at her. Much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want her to go. He wasn't afraid of dying, but he didn't want to die at the hands of some pathetic human anymore than she wanted to at the hands of a Familiar like himself. It sickened him that the words had even left his lips.  
  
"You gotta be kidding me!"  
  
"You need me," he replied coolly.  
  
"Like a hole in the head."  
  
"It can be arranged."  
  
Max turned away from White again, prepared to leave without looking back when he stopped her a second time.  
  
"You leave me here and you'll never have the chance to kill me yourself."  
  
"Who said I wanted to be the one to kill you?" she asked glancing over her shoulder.  
  
"After what I've done to you and yours, I'd think I had it coming, wouldn't you?"  
  
White's words took her a little off guard. Why the hell was he being so damned up front with her, and now of all times? This was the moment she'd been waiting for, where she was allowed to just walk away. She didn't have to become him to do it and he was right, he did deserve it. She caught his blank stare from the corner of her eye and something low in her stomach cringed. She felt a pang of confusion and irritation, for she knew the decision was out of her hands.  
  
Max growled a self-damning curse under her breath and turned back. With no regard for his comfort, she gripped White's right arm and pulled it around her neck as she hauled him up to his feet. Like Familiars weren't already on top of the pain thing anyway. With White leaning on her heavily, Max bore his weight easily as she guided them out of the room and into the darkness outside. 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Author: Drea Jackman  
  
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net  
  
URL:   
  
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).  
  
The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
After staggering through the empty shells of building after building, Max finally selected one that seemed appropriate. Her criteria really wasn't all that hard to satisfy. Now she felt far enough away from the hunting party and that the building she had picked wasn't a glaringly obvious one, she was content to settle. They fumbled their way through the remains of a chemical plant, its many corridors and rooms giving them a labyrinth to get lost in if needbe. Hopefully the human Hunters would miss them too.  
  
As they went, Max mentally kicked herself with every slowed step she took. She was helping White, there was just nothing right about that no matter how hard she tried to imagine the outcome of her actions. Save the psycho now so that he may hurt or kill her friends later - it was insane. She had definitely been hanging around Logan's high morals way too long. When you started to show humanity toward a killer, the boundaries of reason were sure to bend and crumble. Max wasn't even sure Logan would have gone back for him if he'd been in her place.  
  
There was a room to the top of a narrow flight of metals stairs. It was hidden away from view no matter which side of the building you entered by, while still offering escape into the maze of tunnels if needed. It was perfect.  
  
As Max began to take the narrow stairs first, she went side-on to haul White up each step with her. It was only at his grunt of either sheer annoyance or discomfort that she responded.  
  
Gripping his arm tightly she hissed under her breath, "What?"  
  
Without waiting for an answer, she dragged him up the last few steps and kicked in the door to their new hideaway. The second she'd stepped through the door, White pushed himself off Max and hit the wall beside him, probably harder than he'd intended.  
  
"Suits me fine," Max returned and dusted herself off as if he had been some kind of highly contagious pathogen.  
  
"You're just lucky I'm in a more tolerant mood, 452," he said calmly and tried to limp across the room using the wall as a support until he lowered himself down onto an upturned box.  
  
"Were all you Familiars born naturally stupid or is it a finely selected genetic gift?"  
  
White's eyes shot up and locked with hers, his eyes burning intensely as his jaw locked. He wasn't amused in the slightest.  
  
"My name's Max."  
  
"They day I address you as anything more than a freak with a designated number is the day you realise I'm so much more than you could ever hope to become."  
  
His words were spoken slow and deliberate, keen emphasis on the irony that Max would never acknowledge him as such and so it was an empty threat.  
  
"Like that'll happen," Max muttered under her breath as she surveyed the room quickly.  
  
White smirked. "A sad irony indeed."  
  
He stiffened uncomfortably as he began to shrug his suit jacket from his shoulder and cursed under his breath. Max didn't miss a thing.  
  
"I thought that with all that superiority you had goin' for you, you'd already conquered pain."  
  
White seemed more angry at her having noticed than at her reply. Without responding he braced himself and straightened up, suddenly fuelled by the humiliation of being caught at a weaker moment by the enemy. He yanked the jacket down off his left shoulder in one quick, solid motion. White didn't utter a sound, but Max was aware of the sweaty glow beginning to emanate from his forehead and down over his jaw. She knew that even though he hadn't dignified her with a pained response, he'd felt it all the same.  
  
She grimaced slightly as she saw the state his shoulder was in. Now free of his jacket, his shoulder hung low as if flesh and muscle were all that held it in place. The shirt covering it was smeared with blood stains all down the arm. In the shoulder itself, there was a fairly large hole and the surrounding material was soaked through. Noticing her keen attention, White began to turn from her sight.  
  
"Gives you a rush, doesn't it?"  
  
"No," Max replied sincerely. She wasn't expecting to actually feel for him when she saw him injured. It was something both of them had expected her to take satisfaction in.  
  
"Don't," he warned in a low voice as he checked the bullet wound.  
  
"Don't what?"  
  
"Look at me like that."  
  
"Like what? You think I pity you? YOU?!" Max fired back, betraying the fact that 'pity' had occurred to her already.  
  
"Weakness, keep it to yourself," he replied over his shoulder.  
  
Max bit her lip. She wanted nothing more than to tell him exactly what she thought of him and his phoney superiority complex, but she daren't risk it. Starting a yelling match would only put her position in jeopardy and give her away to the pack searching the facility. It could wait.  
  
"You're a killer, White. You bring nothing but pain and suffering to every life you touch. Your kind may think it's set to 'inherit the Earth' someday, but let me tell you, you'll be very alone when that day comes."  
  
White, face hidden, didn't have to hide his inadvertent acknowledgement of her words. While his conscious mind rejected them as the ramblings of an insignificant lesser-being, something else made his stance come close to a physical cringe. He was conflicted, probably for the first real time in his life and the fact that it was a this particular transgenic doing it made it all the harder to swallow.  
  
"Little dramatic aren't we?" he finally returned, but the sting was missing from his words. He wasn't up to par on filling his badass role at that moment.  
  
"Your wife, what about her?"  
  
"I loved her," White said firmly and turned a little more to face her.  
  
"Love?" Max almost laughed. "Your wife was a means to an end and when you were through with her, you killed her."  
  
"I had no choice."  
  
It was then that White caught himself off guard and realised he was slipping. Into what he wasn't entirely sure, but he sure as hell wasn't having this conversation and certainly not with some transgenic filth. He turned from her abruptly and inhaled slowly to gather his temper.  
  
Max felt the discomfort in the air too. Granted she'd felt uncomfortable in his company all night, but that had been familiar and expected. This was different. This time it was because she'd seen a flash of something different in him. There was no humanity in him to catch a glimpse of, so what the heck was she even thinking? Then again, there'd been a glimmer of something and she couldn't deny it. She decided to revert to their usual rivalry for support. There were some things you just trusted in, like longitude and latitude - White was her enemy.  
  
"I'm going to set up a perimeter," she told him. "For your sake, you'd better be asleep by the time I get back."  
  
"I don't sleep," he replied calmly, voice taking on the similar hostility it had held earlier that evening.  
  
Max turned to look at him over her shoulder as she made to leave. From her position she could only see his back. She missed the fact that the smirk she imagined crossing his features at her expense wasn't there. His brow was furrowed as he awaited her reaction, no sign of pleasure being taken in his torment of the X5.  
  
"Learn."  
  
And with that, White was alone.  
  
TBC 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Author: Drea Jackman  
  
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net  
  
URL:   
  
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).  
  
The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Max spent the best part of the next hour creeping around the former chemical plant in familiarise herself with the many possible exits and entrances that could be used later. She couldn't shake the strange feeling in the air and it was nothing to do with the siege situation she was in. When it came down to it, she supposed alot had changed in the months since the siege at Terminal City. White's kind were now just as hated as transgenics in the public eye.  
  
Without making a sound, the X5 stood from her former position and prepared to check all the exits once more. It was what they'd always been taught - 'Know your surroundings.' When her checks had been made, she glanced at her watch and frowned. She had been sat there crouched deep in thought for just over 2 hours. She supposed it was a good thing that the pack hadn't found their building yet. Maybe they'd make it until dawn after all.  
  
As she returned to her current sanctuary, Max mused over her Manticore teachings.  
  
'Know your surroundings, know your enemy,' she thought. 'Where the hell's the part about helping him?!'  
  
With a heavy sigh, she pushed the door open and went inside. Closing it behind her, she turned to see that White had vacated his upturned box and taken up a more relaxed place on the floor. Leaning back into the corner he let his head rest on the wall to his right. Max noticed that his left shoulder still sat low in the joint as she took as seat on the box - only one of many broken ones like it scattered around the room. White watched her and remained silent. Despite their earlier arguing, Max didn't see him as a threat at that moment.  
  
"That shoulder could use some attention," she ventured.  
  
"And you care?"  
  
"Actually I do," Max fired back pointedly. "I need you able to throw a punch if we're gonna get outta here in one piece."  
  
"What do you suggest I do? Go ask them for medical assistance?"  
  
"Yeah, that's exactly what I was suggesting!" Her voice dripped with sarcasm so great it was a new level for even her.  
  
"Wonderful, a freak with a sense of humour."  
  
"I can help."  
  
White raised his head from it's relaxed rest on the wall to glance at his shoulder then looked away.  
  
"It'll heal."  
  
"It's dislocated."  
  
They stared at each other, Max surprised at what she was offering and telling herself repeatedly that it was because she wanted him able to fight off the Hunters as well as she could - White even more so. They'd reached yet another verbal impasse, but this time tempers were curbed.  
  
"Look, if you don't reset it, that specially bred healing of yours will only set it wrong permanently," Max finished in the calmest voice she could muster.  
  
White looked at her before averting his eyes on a slight nod. Max went to kneel by him, her stomach missing the usually sickening lurch it took when she was forced to be near him. Taking her standard 'no shit' attitude, she took his left arm in her hands, left at his wrist, right just above the elbow.  
  
Before doing anything else she looked at him and noticed for the first time, how soft his features could be. She'd always been used to him as a deadly opponent, his features usually hard and extremely cold. The way he was watching her now could almost have passed for human, his darkened eyes looking over her every action as if being attentive. Maybe he was actually capable of warmth, after all ,he did love his son.  
  
"On three," she said quickly averting her eyes to hide her distraction.  
  
"One."  
  
She raised his arm and tightened her grip.  
  
"Two."  
  
He cast her a quick glance that she knew he hadn't meant for her to see before turning his focus to some spot on the wall over her shoulder.  
  
"Three!" Max said and wrenched his arm toward her quickly, straightening it at the shoulder joint as she felt it slide back into place beneath her hand.  
  
White inhaled sharply as the loud crack of bone snapping into place resounded in both their ears, but he didn't cry out like any normal man would have. He hid every outward sign of discomfort or pain completely. Max laid his arm back to rest in his lap and backed away to her box. As she slid her jacket off her shoulders, she noticed his attention hadn't shifted from her.  
  
"What is it now?"  
  
"Why did you come back?"  
  
Max didn't give him the satisfaction of flinching at his question even though she'd been dreading it being asked for hours.  
  
"Figured I'm safer having you as fodder for their guns if it comes down to it."  
  
"And yet you came back twice."  
  
"You should be touched."  
  
"I could kill you," he warned her.  
  
"Save it! You need me as much as I need you tonight."  
  
"A sad fact we both detest."  
  
"You're welcome," Max said with a forced smile which took surprisingly little effort to muster when she realised how much it ate at White.  
  
"They'll have us pinned down by morning," he said matter-of-factly.  
  
"I'm sure your Familiar buddies will stop by to save your ass by then," she sighed knowing that it wasn't just the Hunters that posed a risk on the complex.  
  
"Highly unlikely," he replied.  
  
"What, you pissed 'em all off already?"  
  
The silence loomed around them, but neither of them felt uncomfortable. It was a strangely familiar feeling, being in a room without attempting to kill each other - if you could pardon the pun.  
  
"Months ago this would've been different," he began and Max listened, her expression less sceptical.  
  
"But then that reporter friend of yours decided to what? 'Level the playing field'?"  
  
"One good turn deserves another," she replied, but her voice was missing the sarcastic overtone to make her words sting.  
  
"The government job was just a cover, it never really mattered. All that mattered was preparation."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"The Coming," he answered and turned to look at her.  
  
For a second, Max forgot she was staring an enemy in the face. It was perhaps the first time she'd taken the time to notice that he looked physically tired.  
  
"You decided to reveal us to the world. We've survived for thousands of years in secrecy and you destroyed it all in one night."  
  
White stopped to look at her. He didn't expect remorse from her, in fact he'd expected her to do exactly what she had done. What he hadn't expected was how it would affect him.  
  
"I expected that from you, but I didn't expect them to walk away. They hide behind their cover stories and assume the lives of some pathetic humans they once portrayed. It's an affront to everything we believe in," he spat out.  
  
Max didn't really have anything to say. What was there to say in the face of White's revelation? It was good news for her if the conclave was losing power. It meant that the few left looking for a fight like White, would be less organised and without back-up.  
  
"They retreat, content to bide their time until they inherit the Earth when our time is now."  
  
"Oh, boo hoo!"  
  
White glared at her.  
  
"I'm supposed to feel sorry for you just because something you believed in fell apart?"  
  
"Save your pity for your own kind."  
  
"Then what?" she asked exasperated.  
  
White evaded her question and replaced it with his own. He wasn't entirely sure why he'd vented it on her.  
  
"Where's my son?"  
  
"What about Ray?" she asked, suddenly standing up as she glared back down at him. "What about the ones out there just trying to make a life for themselves? They had no say in what they were born into - we were made!"  
  
"Heresy! The result of my father's mistake."  
  
"And your son deserves to pay the price along with us?"  
  
"You did this!"  
  
Max flashed him a warning glare and went to settle in the corner opposite. White turned to look at her, his eyes following her every move as if awaiting her first strike. They had to be quiet.  
  
"No, Ames," she replied, her voice spoke his name with disdain and pity. "You did this the second you started hunting us ... killing us. You went looking for a war and now you've found one. You don't get to be the hunter anymore. See how you like being the prey."  
  
With that, Max turned over to curl up under her jacket. She didn't worry about turning her back to him in that instance for she didn't expect to get any sleep. Her every muscle tensed as she heard White moving behind her and she cast a quick glance over her shoulder.  
  
White lay in the corner opposite in more or less the same position, his back also turned. His jacket still lay over by the box she'd been perched on. It was a cold night, but she suspected he wouldn't feel it anymore than she would. Neither were likely to sleep either, but at least they wouldn't have to talk for a while.  
  
Stifling a sigh, Max turned back to rest her head on her arm and hoped that Alec and the others would know where to find her come morning.  
  
TBC 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Author: Drea Jackman  
  
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net  
  
URL:   
  
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).  
  
The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
This Chapter went NC-17 and cannot be archived here on ff.net. Feel free to continue reading as this chapter's events will be referenced in Chapter 5 without anyone having to read the graphics. If you are old enough and would like to read the chapter, you can find it on The Abydos Cartouche (URL Above) in all it's glory. Sorry to have to do this, but it's the best I could do here.  
  
Chapter 4 - 


	5. Chapter 5

Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Author: Drea Jackman  
  
Email: webmaster@the-spacemonkey.net  
  
URL:   
  
Warning: If you're one of these people that can't get their head around non- m/l or m/a 'ships, turn back now. This fic is strictly for the open-minded ... and my fellow writers in the Conclave.  
  
Disclaimer: Not my characters or my show...unfortunately. Just having a little fun with them for now, but I promise to return them to the shelf when I'm done ... though I might keep White a little longer ;).  
  
The Enemy Of My Enemy  
  
Max started suddenly and sat up. She turned to survey the room and saw White in a similar position, his hand raised to keep her quiet. Whatever it was, he'd obviously picked up on it before her. She listened hard and after a few seconds, she heard it again.  
  
She leaned over and gave White a simple military hand-signal, gesturing for him to stay while she checked it out. To her surprise, he nodded and turned his attention back towards the door. With that, Max got up slowly and cautiously ventured out of the room.  
  
* * *  
  
White sat there and tried to focus on what was going on in the present and not the strange sleep that had crept up on him earlier. He tried with a might that could only really be worthy of a Familiar like himself, but to no avail. He had lied to her - at the time just to have something to bite back at her with - but he was painfully aware of the fact that he did, on occasion, require sleep.  
  
It was hardly something he wanted to share with Max. She was an enemy and one that had become his very own personal nemesis. The thorn in his side and the very torment of his waking existence - how could she now be consuming his unconscious mind? On the occasions he had, had to sleep since meeting her, she had featured in several, but only as the transgenic victim that met her downfall by his hand. What he had experienced only moments ago disturbed him greatly.  
  
He tried to push the images from his mind, but even when he managed that, the sensations he had experienced quickly took their place. The surprise at her advance and the thrill in his seduction. He had felt her warmth and tasted her flesh. It was an experience that went beyond all else and yet it was still only a dream.  
  
When he finally managed to banish the memories, it was only behind much older ones of their previous encounters in battle. Old instinct was easy to fall back on even if he berated himself as weak for doing so. As a transgenic she was the enemy, but as the prey she was his kindred. Even he was smart enough to admit that much to himself.  
  
Whether he liked to admit it or not, White had long since shared her thoughts about the current state of their broken world. The standing between transgenic and Familiar was an impracticality, but apparently only to him. Since Max and her reporter friend Eyes Only had stolen his son away, his every thought had been of how to get him back. It was only when they initial rage died down and his father's message revealed in her - the one - that he cast a thought at the very ideal his father had tried so hard to preach.  
  
As it currently stood, his kind had no cover and even if he got Ray back, he'd have no way to shield him from the enemy that now hunted his own as he once hunted the transgenics. Against them he was on an equal footing, possibly beyond, but there were fewer of them. Exposure had cost him the luxury of arrogance and whether it took Familiar strength to fight it or not, he acknowledged reluctantly that he would be forced to swallow his pride. He didn't want his son brought up in a world like that. Stained by the decisions of his father and forced to live in the kind of world he'd helped to create. White knew how that felt and he wanted none of it for Ray.  
  
Completely preoccupied by the ever-growing moral issues his mind seemed to lock onto nowadays, his only thoughts were for the well-being of his son and the life he could give him. With his perception side-tracked, White missed the sound of heavy footsteps outside his room. Only the dull echo registered, but that was more than enough. Within seconds he was halfway to his feet, struggling with a leg that refused to co-operate and support his weight. He was too late.  
  
A single figure kicked the door open and it quivered in its frame at the resounding force. He surveyed the room with a kind of military precision that surprised White and despite his better attempt to disappear into shadow, his advantage was lost. As the man raised his weapon to shoot, White threw himself forward, his weight giving a solid fist more power and the man stumbled back to regain his footing.  
  
White, on the other hand, was balanced on an uneven keel as his bad leg seemed to groan reluctantly and reject his natural attempt to recover from his attack and remain standing. He could already feel the warmth oozing its way down his thigh and past the knee, causing him to wonder just how much blood he'd already lost in the last few hours. It slowed him down and it made him weak. Two things he couldn't afford to be, least of all tonight.  
  
"Looks like something's forgetting the beating it just took," the man sneered and wiped his bloodied mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
White refused to dignify his opponent with a response and merely glared back in defiance. It was then that the man suddenly swung his gun around aiming it butt-first at his bloodied leg. White tried to shift his weight and counter to safely dodge it, but he wasn't fast enough and the butt connected squarely with his knee. His leg buckled beneath him, but sheer determination and defiance made him hold his ground. Only just managing to reach the wall, the Familiar leaned heavily upon it and refused to go down.  
  
"Time for a little fun before I shoot you," the other man sneered again and tightened his grip around his gun.  
  
* * *  
  
Hunters. By the time Max had made it to the bottom of the stairs, she could hear their footsteps clearly. They were still a little way off but if they'd closed in this far, they'd most likely get closer. A shadow passed the windows at the end of the corridor and she knew she had to act.  
  
Within seconds she'd blurred out of the chemical plant, managing to avoid the vigilante's outside until she went around a neighbouring building. She quickly slammed the lone Hunter head-first into she wall. The resounding 'thwack' alerted others nearby and Max gave it enough time to let them catch a glimpse of her before blurring off in the opposite direction.  
  
As expected, they gave chase. Although hot on her trail, Max could easily outrun them if she wanted to. At that moment, that wasn't her objective. Slowly, one by one, she picked off the next three and decided to simply lose the other two. If their position had been made, the best plan was to get the hell out. She took the next few minutes to make her way back to the plant, being careful to loop and confuse her direct path of travel to lose anyone on her trail. When she finally made her way inside and climbed the steps to her refuge, she noticed the door already open.  
  
'Great,' she thought despite her knowledge of his physical state making her doubt the assumption. 'Runaway Familiar.'  
  
But as she entered the doorway she could see White in the same corner, looking much rougher than when she'd left him. A man dressed in scatty army fatigues stood between them, obviously unaware of her presence. He had a gun aimed at the Familiar's head, his back turned to the transgenic he had really assumed had abandoned her enemy after their attack.  
  
White didn't betray her presence, whether by his own choice or because he couldn't was still Max's next guess. She watched as instead, he turned to look up at his aggressor. With no attempt to hide the contempt in his voice, he uttered words that made the Hunter falter for a brief second.  
  
"Fen'nes'tol."  
  
The man paused at what Max could tell was reluctant realisation dawning, but she gave him no time to respond. Before he knew it, the wannabe soldier lay in a heap on the floor. She turned back to White completely in soldier-mode.  
  
"Can you walk?"  
  
The familiar was already attempting to stand up. Max saw him sway on his wounded leg, fresh blood soaking the suit, and quickly caught him by the arm to steady him. Slipping under his arm, she supported more of his weight than she had before. As they exited the room and headed for the top of the stairs, Max jumped suddenly as she felt White's body jerk against hers. Muscles contracted swiftly and released a last reserve of energy. he leaned down heavily on her again as another man dressed in black fell forward unconscious. Max didn't have to ask what had just happened.  
  
"Looks like I can throw a punch after all," he quipped sounding exhausted, a characteristic smirk on his face.  
  
'I need you able to throw a punch,' she remembered.  
  
Perhaps he was beginning to enjoy the situation a little more, after all, someone had his back this time and it was a strange feeling. Max was loathed to admit it, but as the pair moved swiftly onward she found herself hiding a slight smirk of her own.  
  
TBC 


	6. Chapter 6

**The Enemy Of My Enemy...**

**by**

**Drea Jackman**

Chapter Six

In the shear black of night, the shadows helped to consume Max and White whole. They made it clear across the rest of the complex without meeting anymore Hunters in their travels. Max was beginning to feel tired, despite her revved-up genes pushing her beyond the pain threshold that was now beginning to scream in defiance of every new step she took.

Since they'd set off, White had begun to feel heavy and took less and less of his own weight on himself. When the path out of the complex led into the stark woodland lying between them and town, Max struggled to keep her footing. Half an hour and a mile later, she finally faltered on a low tree trunk and felt White's weight pull her down.

Hitting the rough forest floor hard, Max grunted and scrambled to get up. She knew White had gone down beside her, and she could feel the weight of the arm she'd been supporting as it lay across her back. As she brought herself to a kneeling position, she was surprised to find that he wasn't moving. The arm she'd felt on her back fell by his side as he lay there unconscious.

"You're kidding me," she hissed and thumped him lightly on his good shoulder.

Shifting position when he didn't respond, she looked around and quickly scanned the area with X5 precision. There was a fallen tree a few feet away and that had pulled up a large chunk of the ground when it had gone down. The almost perfect floor of earth still threaded between the roots now formed a canopy over the hollow where it had once stood tall. For fear of Hunters discovering them stationary outside the complex, she quickly grabbed White non-too-gently and dragged him to the shelter.

"Hey!" she hissed, bending to lower her lips to his ear.

White didn't move.

Max took the soldier initiative again and began to check him over for further signs of injury, and for another brief moment, wondered why the hell she wasn't just leaving him there for them. All too soon, she found a warm, sticky substance coating her hand where it rested over his shoulder. Drawing back to look at it with Manticore-given night-vision, she recognised it as blood, but not before the scent flooded her senses. The bullet wound had opened again and once more, life fluid was pouring from him in oozing waves.

"Superior breed my ass!"

She continued to grumble mentally as she clamped a hand over the wound and pressed down on it hard. Her other free hand checked for a pulse. He might have been Familiar, but she'd be damned if he'd die whilst under their truce of sorts. Damned if she didn't do what she could to help him because the second she failed to, she'd have succeeded in becoming the killer he'd attempted to make her so many times before. She'd saved Joshua and now it would take everything she had to save herself.

"Hey!" she hissed again and swatted his cheek harder than she would've anyone close to her. With one final slap he began to stir. "Wake up!"

White's eyes fluttered open to see the face of his enemy staring down at him. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened or how long he'd been out with her kneeling over him, but it was something he'd rather she not have seen.

"What happened to being the superior model, huh?!"

When he didn't dignify her with an answer, she softened her expression. There was no fun to be had in his kind of taunting if he didn't fire anything back. Besides, she didn't feel like playing his games anymore. She was loathed to show anything close to concern, but he really did appear to be hurt. After about fifteen minutes, she'd stemmed the bleeding and he was fumbling to sit up, no doubt tired of his vulnerable position.

"So, what happened?" she asked finally.

"To being the superior model or when you gave in to your pathetic weakness again?"

"Look, I thought we'd cleared this up already," she sighed, being careful to keep their argument quiet. "You keep that lame-ass sense of humour to yourself or I leave your sorry ass here for them."

White turned to smirk at her through obvious physical discomfort. Maybe it was the addition of being in a confined space with her to the repeated beatings. "Fixation with my ass now, 452? What would your reporter friend think?"

Max lost it for all of two seconds and allowed herself to strike out and thump his good shoulder again, a little harder this time. White only appeared to enjoy having earned another enraged response from her. Another reason for Max to fume. After silence loomed for a few minutes more, they finally turned to look at each other again.

"Remind me again why I even thought about helping you out of there alive?" Max asked.

White sat leaning against the mound of earth and tangle of bark behind them, as did Max. They both turned away from each other and stared blankly out into the night.

"Because, no matter what I try to do to you, you fight."

White's answer surprised Max. There was no sarcasm, no malice at all. It was said as a statement of fact and not as the tiresome, failed result she knew must have annoyed him.

"You hardly asked me to leave you behind. In fact," she said, enjoying the sarcasm in her words a little too much. How could he have that effect on her? "You threw out some pathetic demand as I recall."

"If you'd left me behind, you'd have made it out of here hours ago."

"Don't remind me."

"You're weak, and yet you fight it constantly."

Max grew tired of his lack of aggression and reverted her own conversation back a notch or two to make up for it. "Fight what? Cut the cryptic shit!"

"That cold feeling that creeps through your veins when you look at me. Right now ... a few hours ago ... but it was stronger when you brought me here, wasn't it?"

His directness caught her off guard and she averted her eyes for a second. Then she realised that was giving her away and she put her game face back on. Her gaze returned to meet his in denial with a fiery passion.

"Familiar, murderer, lying helplessly at your feet, slowing you down. You could have finished it without ever giving me the satisfaction of knowing. It's what they've wanted me to do for a long time," he continued.

"Satisfaction?"

"Of killing me."

"You're crazy!" she said determined not to fall for whatever it was he was apparently trying to get her to admit.

"Maybe," he said giving her a side-long glance.

"I wanted to leave you here."

"Like I said, you fight," White replied as once again, her presence and his pulse attested to what he was trying to say.

"Who's they?" she ventured after a brief moment of silence.

"The Conclave."

"Offer them my apologies then," she fired back.

"You'd never do what they wanted, I'd come to believe as much when you saved the canine from me."

"You were the one saved that night and don't think I don't regret it every day."

"You stopped him from becoming a killer, but now you're worried you'll give in yourself, aren't you?"

Max looked away from him and faked disinterest in his topic of conversation. White knew better, even if he was wondering why the hell he was pushing with the intimate conversation. Mortal enemies didn't share. What was he doing?

"Why didn't you?"

"Why didn't I what?" she asked, her tone low and curt as if making it clear that he really was wearing on her patience and should back off now.

"Leave me behind, kill me when you had the chance?" 

For a few seconds, she forgot herself and was tempted to open up. Then, for the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of who she was dealing with and her temper flared that bit higher. "Because I'm not you!"

The air around them grew tense and White watched as she settled herself in a new position facing away from him. She wasn't the first person to turn her back on him. Instead of focusing on their argument, he found his thoughts consumed by the dream he'd had before. It was true, she was nothing like him and yet now he found that fact to be strangely appealing.

"Why did you even follow me tonight?"

Max's tone betrayed a tiredness and sense of defeat he'd not expected to hear from her ever.

"I followed you?"

Max looked over her shoulder and shot him a warning glare not to push her any farther.

"The conclave heard about the pick-up operation you have for bringing freaks into town. I was sent to monitor you, find out when there was movement," he finally answered.

"You've been watching me?" Max asked. She was surprised that he would or could have done so without attempting to killer her at least once.

"Felines really are creatures of habit, aren't they?"

Max snapped for a second time that night and threw an elbow his way to mark her angered sigh. It connected with the solid mass of White's body beside her and he gave a satisfying grunt of pain. Then the reality of their situation hit her again and she stopped to stare at him.

  
"There was no one here tonight. Why did you come after me?"

"You have that backwards, 452."

"You attacked me on a night when there was no traffic, why?!" she hissed, moving to her knees quickly. She gripped him by the neck of his shirt, pushing him back into the earthen wall behind.

"I didn't attack," White choked through her grasp.

The heat radiating from his eyes penetrated the cold facaude she'd fought so hard to keep controlled and in place. She was forced to relive the moment she'd realised he was there with her at the facility. She'd stepped back and turned around to head back to her Ninja. Her Ninja - now there was something she'd have to go back for and set about mending after this was over. 

As soon as she'd turned halfway, she'd seen the shadow to her right and reacted. Their forearms clashed harshly as the first punch was blocked and they both took up an more defensive stance a few feet apart. But White was right, hers had been the first move and his had been to block. Then again, since when did the Familiar's presence mean anything else other than danger? It didn't matter. Her patience was wearing thin enough as it was without the added bonus of trying to figure out her excess baggage.

"So what, you're just playing stalker now?"

"Hardly," he replied with a roll of his eyes. He rubbed absently at his throat as she sat up on her haunches away from him, her hands releasing their iron grip on his neck.

"Then why..."

"Because they don't know that!" he snapped, cutting her off. "Because I'm supposed to kill you. You're the one my father said could be our salvation and to them it's heresy."

"I thought you and yours were all set to inherit the Earth and damn the weak. What happened to that Familiar faith of yours?" Max asked sceptically.

White didn't appreciate the mocking tone in her voice and his gaze became a stony glare. 

"I want my son," he replied flatly.

"And I'm guessing they don't?"

White scowled and glanced away, his eyes focusing on some distant point while his mind mulled everything over again. It was a process he'd followed many times since losing Ray. But, he still didn't have any answers.

"You know where he is. Tell me."

His words bordered on demanding, but the look he gave her was asking what he could not have asked of her - not yet.

"Not in a position to be making demands are you?" Max countered.

She had detected the quality of his gaze, but glazed over it to avoid caving in. It was becoming harder to deny that everything was beginning to add up with White. His own mission countering that of his precious Conclave, right down to his core beliefs; a father he fought so hard to escape as a younger man, now treading the line he'd once refused to cross; the deep exhaustion she could see in his features, even his physical stance, when she looked closely. Losing Ray hadn't broken him completely, after all, he was a Familiar. It had, however, shaken the foundations around him enough to cause cracks to form. With that in mind, she couldn't give in. White was an enemy - her enemy.

"Your kind never really had parents, did they?" White asked, his voice softer than before and lacking all sarcasm and insincerity. "You'd have had a birth mother of course. Would you have liked to have known her, 452?"

"My name's Max," she said simply and tried to avoid his attempts and a deep-and-meaningful. He'd told her once that he'd studied Law. She didn't want to play into any of his games by taking part in lawyer-like tactics in discussion.

"How do you think Ray feels in all of this? How do you feel knowing you've taken a child away from his father, Max?"

Max was shocked less by the audacity of his simple questions and more by his use of her name. Only hours earlier he had vowed never to address her as anything beyond some numerical designation and now he was calling her Max? This was a bargaining ploy at no mistake, and one she wouldn't fall for.

"I'm sorry about the kid, I really am. He doesn't deserve all this shit just because you're his father, but he's better off where he is," she said, careful to keep her voice low.

"He belongs with his father."

"You arrogant asshole! You think you're really the best person to have in his life right now? You're a killer, Ames," Since he'd brought them up to first name terms, she saw no point in holding back now. "You've helped launch a war you can't finish and win. Look at you! The only reason you're not dead already is because for some stupid reason, a transgenic is helping you."

White didn't say anything. Instead he stared at her, knowing she was only half right. He was alive because of her, but he was in this mess because he'd sought her out. How the hell would he ever explain being reduced to something so desperate and pitiful? He didn't know if he had it in him.

"Do you think that's what he needs?" she continued, oblivious to his strangely calm lack of response. "A father that hates and kills and destroys? A father that cares more about some Conclave rite of passage than his own son's life? A father who murdered the mother of his child - Ames what do you say when Ray asks where is mother went or why?"

"I love my son," White breathed and Max could tell her words had caught him off guard. He looked physically shaken, even more so in his beaten and wounded state.

"If you were capable of love, you wouldn't be the man you are. You call us freaks and abominations, but you're more of a monster than any one of Manticore's kind."

Her words were honest and frank, but sounded almost hollow in her head. She couldn't make her tone accusing or angry now if she tried. In truth, because looking at him now, she pitied him more than anything else.

"I'll find him with or without your help."

With no will to continue arguing, Max turned her attention to the blood-stained patches on his shirt. For some reason her spate of home-truths hadn't angered him and it felt important to keep their mood that way. They didn't have to be found now. In his present condition, White would never make it out at a straight run. Resting was good for both of them and for now, they were well hidden.

"Bleeding's stopped," she muttered to him as she checked his shoulder wound.

White didn't reply. He simply watched her concern with amazement as she reached out to touch the monster she'd so eloquently described. Why didn't she hesitate? Surely after all she'd said, she couldn't possibly think he was worth taking care of. How could she seem to want to save him even when he didn't want to be saved? He'd almost betrayed his own self-loathing to her earlier that night. Could she have noticed on some level? Did he really want her to?

"How long until you can walk out of here?"

"Few hours," White replied as he closed his eyes. There was obviously no need to hide the fact that he was in bad shape. Heck, he'd even passed out on her. If he could actually have a few hours to himself, he'd have a shot at getting his blood count up and healing a little more. Gain more control to quell the phantoms, the pain that ate away at him. Maybe then he'd get to shirk the indignity of needing a transgenic's help.

"Get some rest then," she said, her seemingly uncaring facaude slipping into place.

White stared at her as he had so many times before launching of some volley of insults, but this time he remained silent. He watched her until she went behind a nearby tree to stand guard before he shifted around in an attempt to get more comfortable. Staring out into the darkness with nothing but the light breeze rustling through the trees drifting back to his ears, the world began to bleed into the darkness of peace.

Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: All Dark Angel characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and Dark Angel itself belongs to FOX...it's just not fair is it? *Sob*

FLIP-PAGE-BACK 


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